Guilty Pleasures
by Suicidal Mickey Mouse
Summary: Everyone has a guilty pleasure, and Roger just happened to find Mark's. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: RENT and its characters do not belong to me.

Author's notes: I am so sorry that this is not an update for Hold Up, but the ability to write that particular story has been escaping me all week. So instead, I'm just trying to get some of the other ideas out of my head so I can focus on that one. Here is one of those crazy ideas now.

_Italics are film.

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_

Guilty Pleasures

Roger came out of Mark's room. It was early December, and he had been hoping to find some of Mark's old scripts to start a fire while the filmmaker was out getting wood and food with the money that they had scrounged together. Instead of the old scripts however, Roger had found something far more disturbing.

It was clutched in his hands as he left the room. He couldn't believe that he had found it. He knew that Mark made some questionable decisions in what he entertained himself with, but he never thought it had come to this.

The door to the loft opened, and the item quickly was moved so it was hidden behind his back. When you had blackmail material such as this, you didn't want to reveal your hand too early. Mark entered the loft with his camera in hand, and started to unwrap his scarf. "Hey Rog."

"Hey." Roger used the hand that wasn't holding his find to give a short wave, and continued to their quote unquote living room, starting to hum a little as he did so.

Mark followed suit, taking a seat on one of the chairs, exchanging his camera for one of the magazines on their crate that was meant to be a table. "You're in a good mood." He observed quietly.

"I guess." The humming got a little louder as Roger sat on the couch, laying down so that the object was digging into his back. He couldn't stop the grin that started to twitch its way onto his face.

"Really good." Mark looked away from the magazine, mildly interested. "And what are you humming?"

"Nothing in particular." Roger shrugged. He hummed a few more bars, but then the humming morphed into a quiet mumbled singing. "Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up, in the morning when the day is new? And after having spent the day together, hold each other close the whole night through?"

Mark started to get suspicious. "Why are you singing the Beach Boys?" His blue eyes narrowed a bit behind his glasses.

Roger grinned, and stopped the song. "I found something interesting in your room."

"You were in my room! You know I hate it when you go in there without asking me."

"Why?" Roger smirked a bit more, reaching beneath himself. "Are you afraid I might find this?" His hand came out from behind him, revealing a cassette tape. "The Best of the Beach Boys." He read in a teasing manner. "Mark, I had no idea you were into bopping with the beach bunnies."

"I'm not." Mark held out his hand. "Can I have my tape back please?"

Roger jerked the tape back so it was out of reach. "Oh, not until you explain yourself…How can you justify owning this thing?"

"It's the only thing that would get me to sleep when I was a kid. It has sentimental value. I only listen to it once in a while."

"It was in your tape player."

"Look, they have some good songs." Mark stood and started over in an attempt to get the tape back.

"Oh yeah." Roger stood and quickly jumped onto the crate to avoid Mark. And then he started to croon at the top of his lungs in a mocking manner. "Ooh, I wanna take you down to Kokomo. We'll get there fast and then we'll take it slow. That's where we wanna go. Way down to Kokomo."

"That is not the best example." Mark started to chase after him, determined to get his tape back.

Roger was determined to not let him have hit. "Wait 'til everyone hears about this!" He continued singing as the chase started around the apartment.

After a few moments of chasing, and a few bars of "California Girls" Mark realized that he was not using the best strategy to get his tape back. Roger was faster, taller, and stronger than him. But he did have other means of getting it back. He stopped chasing after Roger and went into his room.

Roger stopped moving but continued to sing as many Beach Boys songs as he could think of. Teasing Mark was too much fun. He tucked the tape into his back pocket and tried to get in Mark's face as he came out, toting his projector, but the filmmaker was suddenly unflappable; he didn't falter as he set up his equipment and loaded a roll of film onto the projector.

An image of Roger appeared on the wall, and Roger abruptly stopped singing.

_Roger was in front of a semi-fog covered mirror in the loft's bathroom. His entire body was slightly damp, and there was a towel wrapped around his waist. One half of his face was coated in shaving cream, the other half was already clean shaven. As he started to rinse his razor from another stroke he started to sing._

"_I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt so sexy, it hurts." The clean razor was then held in front of his face like a microphone. "And I'm to sexy for Milan, too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan." Roger started to dance a little as he watched himself in the mirror, starting another stroke of shaving his face. "And I'm, too sexy for your party, too sexy for your party, no way I'm disco dancing. I'm a model, you know what I mean, and I do my little turn on the catwalk. Yeah on the catwalk, yeah, on the catwalk, yeah. I shake my little tush on the catwalk." _

_By the end of this verse, his face was clean and he tossed his razor down into the sink. He briefly stopped singing for a moment, and then ran a hand through his damp hair, as though trying to decide how to style it. Finally, he just grabbed a comb from sill below the mirror. "Listen up everybody if you wanna take a chance." As he combed he started to alternate, between singing and rapping lines. "Just get on the floor and do the New Kids' dance. Don't worry 'bout nothing 'cuz it won't take long. We're gonna put you in a trance with a funky song."_

_He put down the comb, and put his fists up in a fight stance that had all the knowledge of watching Rocky once, starting to pump his fists towards his reflection to the beat of his song. _

"_Cuz you gotta be, hangin' tough. Hangin' tough. Hangin' tough. We're rough."_

_And then after a moment, of silence, he turned around, seemingly done with his impromptu concert. But suddenly he turned back around, pointing at his reflection. "If you want my body, and you think I'm sexy come on sugar let me know. If you really need me, just reach out and touch me come on honey tell me so."_

_Then the door closed._

The clip faded away, and Roger turned to Mark, relatively speechless that he had been found out.

Mark, was grinning quite evilly. "That was quite the interesting film wasn't it Roger? Wouldn't it be so fun if say…Collins and Maureen saw that?"

"You wouldn't."

"If you give me back that tape, and never mention it again, this stays safely in my possession, where no one else will see it." Mark informed.

Roger had never handed something over so quickly in his life. "So you're not gonna show anyone that…or tell anyone about it?" He asked after a moment of silence.

Mark shook his head. "No. But it was great blackmail wasn't it?"

And the conversation ended at that, leaving the two with the understanding that everyone was allowed their guilty pleasures. Roger's were singing cheesy pop songs in front the mirror after he showered. Mark's were the Beach Boys…and secretly filming Roger singing in front of the mirror after he showered.

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Well, that's that. I just have to say that I mean no disrespect to the Beach Boys. I personally listen to them all the time, but it just seemed like something that the Boho Boys might be a bit more adverse to.

Also, I quite obviously do not own the Beach Boys and their music, the song "I'm Too Sexy," by Right Said Fred, the song "Hangin' Tough" by New Kids on the Block, and the song "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" By Rod Stewart.

Thoughts?


End file.
